


Kings of Tomorrow

by bokubroya (liarielle)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A good balance of both, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Multi, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, Platonic Soulmates, Queerplatonic Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Rating May Change, Reconciliation, Romantic Soulmates, Some minor characters and elements from Kaze Ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru, but not enough to warrant tagging that fandom imo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:08:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liarielle/pseuds/bokubroya
Summary: On the eve of Tobio’s 16th birthday, he counts down the seconds to midnight, and emerges with Oikawa Tooru’s name on his wrist.It’s been two years since then, and Tobio thought they had an understanding. A silent, never spoken about understanding that this thing between them is nothing, and they’re going to pretend it doesn’t exist.Of course, it’s just like Oikawa to change the game and leave Tobio wondering what comes next.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio & Tsukishima Kei & Yachi Hitoka & Yamaguchi Tadashi, Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Tsukishima Kei, Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Oikawa Tooru & Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 60
Kudos: 264
Collections: Anu2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! 
> 
> I should probably be working on my existing wips, but I got the idea for this story and fell in love, and had no issues with writer’s block, so I’m absolutely taking advantage of that. 
> 
> I set the rating to Teen for now, but it may increase in the future just by nature of this being a University setting and age. If it looks like it'll be going in that direction at all, I'll give y'all notice. 
> 
> But yeah, I’m in Oikage hell and there is no escape and I love it here! I hope y’all enjoy!

Tobio is 18, and he’s watching two of his best friends argue over the number of volleyball posters that should be allowed on a single wall, while someone who was maybe once his friend but maybe wasn’t looks like he’s regretting every life choice that has led to this moment. And Tobio can’t exactly blame Kindaichi, watching Kei and Shouyou argue must be vaguely terrifying for someone who isn’t used to it. For Tobio, though, the proper course of action is simple. While Kei and Shouyou are distracted, Tobio adds a Schweiden Adlers poster to the wall, noticeably higher than Shouyou’s MSBY Black Jackals poster. 

They both shriek at _him_ then—Kei because Tobio is clearly ignoring his ‘no more than three volleyball posters on one wall you obsessive volleyball _freaks_ ’ rule, and Shouyou because Tobio is clearly ignoring his ‘the Black Jackals are way cooler than the Adlers Bakageyama’ rule. Dodging one of them is easy enough, but they’ve learned to coordinate over the last three years, and Tobio finds himself trapped with Kei’s arm latched around his neck and Shouyou clamped around his leg. His gaze swivels automatically to Kindaichi, a pleading look on his face, before he remembers that it’s not Tadashi standing there, not his captain who will save him. 

And it’s so _awkward,_ it has been since the moment the three of them walked into their suite in the Athletics dorms and found out that Kindaichi is the other first year rooming with them. There’s no outward animosity between them, but that doesn’t mean Tobio has forgotten that Kindaichi hates him. And Tobio understands that, accepts it, because why wouldn’t he ( ~~Tobio knows he’s not very likeable, he knows it’s a miracle he has friends at all~~ ), but it’s awkward. Tobio would really prefer it was less awkward, so he ignores what he’s pretty sure is Shouyou _biting_ his fucking calf and tries to push Kei off. 

“If you’ve got one you want to put up, now’s probably a good time,” Tobio suggests. It’s meant to soothe some of that suffocating awkwardness between them, but Kindaichi just looks...confused. And still mildly terrified, and no less awkward. 

Tobio is saved by a knock at their door, and Kindaichi looks relieved to have an excuse to step away from their chaos to answer it. Kei and Shouyou both release him, because it’s one of the second years at the door, and it’s time to go to the gym. The four of them grab their bags, and when Shouyou elbows him with a grin during the walk, Tobio knows it’s because he’s pouting. They’re taking the time to go to the gym, to the _court_ , and they won’t even get to play until Monday. 

“You’re the same,” Tobio grouches down at him, and Shouyou shrugs. Tobio’s known Shouyou long enough to know that means ‘yeah, but I’m still going to make fun of you, because I’m a short irritating brat’. And Shouyou’s known Tobio long enough to know what he’s thinking, and Kei’s known them both long enough to step between them before they start shoving. 

There’s a flurry of movement when they step into the gym, and Tobio feels a wide, wicked smile stretch across his face when Kei is accosted by both Kuroo and Bokuto. 

“Tsukki!” They shout in unison, descending upon Kei to ruffle his hair and pinch his cheeks, all while he snaps and snarls.

“Don’t call me that,” Kei hisses venomously. “And stop making such a fuss!”

“Admit it, you missed us!” Bokuto crows. “You definitely missed us, Tsukki.” 

“You haven’t grown a bit since we last saw you, Tsukki, have you been eating enough?” Kuroo teases, prodding at Kei’s ribs. 

“It’s only been a few months, get _off_ ,” Kei shoves them away and glares murderously, but Tobio can see the faint color on his cheeks and the glint in his eyes, the love for volleyball that these men helped him find. He notices some vaguely familiar faces around the room, players they must have faced at one point or another, many watching Kei with a look of amusement and sympathy. 

Next to him, Shouyou gasps, and Tobio goes still. Shouyou’s vocabulary hosts many nonsense words, bwahs and gahs and wabams, and a variety of sound effects, and gasps and oohs and aahs, and they all mean different things. It’s just a gasp, nowhere near a bwah or gwah, but Tobio has only ever heard Shouyou gasp like that when—

“Grand King?!” Shouyou cries. 

No. No no no. He’s not supposed to be _here_. He doesn’t go to Kansei, there’s a reason Tobio picked this school over Chuo, he can’t be here. 

“Chibi-chan!” Oikawa’s cheerful voice carries across the gym, wrapping around Tobio’s lungs and squeezing _tight_. Tobio wheezes quietly, and Kindaichi frowns at him. “And Yuu-chan too!” Oikawa continues, beaming at Kindaichi despite the boy’s embarrassed flushing. And then those brown eyes lock with blue, and Oikawa is looking at Tobio, but he’s never looked at him quite like this before.

“Hello, Tobio-chan.” 

\-----

Tobio is 18, and he feels like his heart is swelling too big in his chest, yet somehow shriveling at the same time. They’ve placed third, _nationally_. Three is, in Tobio’s opinion, a beautiful and horrible number. Three years, and ending it in third place. They’ve come so far since their first year, so far from fallen crows with clipped wings. But Tobio can’t shake the feeling that they could still go further. He’s not ready yet, to leave the court and never play with this team again. He’s felt this before, for the last three Januarys in a row, but it’s different this time. In two weeks, he’ll take entrance exams for University. In a few months, he’ll graduate and move away, and he doesn’t know who will be with him. Tadashi will never be his captain again, just as Ennoshita and Daichi will never be his captains again. 

He’s trying his damndest not to cry, and he almost manages it until he sees the steady flow of tears cascading down Kei’s cheeks, and that’s it. Kei glares at him, and calls him an idiot, and Tobio jumps on him with Shouyou, Tadashi, and Hitoka. It hurts when they hit the floor, but Tobio doesn’t care. 

\---

There’s a crowd waiting for them by the bus, and Tobio can see Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei talking to Suga, Daichi, and Asahi. Tanaka, Noya, and Ennoshita are there too. Tobio knew he hadn’t imagined their voices among the crowd while they were playing. It’s not just Karasuno alum either—Kuroo, Kenma, Bokuto, and Akaashi are there, having come to watch their own teams and Karasuno, to see the last of their teammates’ final nationals. 

Shouyou immediately darts away from Tobio’s side when he sees Kenma, not that Tobio can really blame him. Shouyou only gets to see his soulmate in person every now and then, and they all know that Kenma only put up with the crowd and the noise to see Shouyou. 

What catches Tobio off guard, though, are three unexpected faces. Iwaizumi, Ushijima, and Oikawa. Oikawa is arguing with Kuroo about who knows what, and Iwaizumi and Ushijima both seem content to leave him to it. Ushijima approaches Shouyou, and Tobio feels that protective irritation flare up in him until Ushijima compliments how far Shouyou has come, and it fades away. Iwaizumi smiles at Tobio and claps a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey Kageyama,” he says easily. “Congrats. You guys were amazing.” 

“Thank you Iwaizumi-san,” Tobio dips his head in a nod. “I wish…I mean we could have-” 

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi’s smile softens and goes crooked. “I get it.” 

“What, um,” Tobio falters, and tries again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” Unspoken, of course, is that Tobio didn’t expect to see Oikawa or Ushijima either. Especially together, in the same space, without Oikawa glaring or smirking at Ushijima. Tobio knew they ended up at the same University, he just didn’t expect them to actually get along. Perhaps two years was enough for Oikawa to get past his grudge. Maybe that means there’s some hope...no. No, probably not. Best not to entertain that. 

Iwaizumi laughs and gives Tobio a look. “You can’t be that surprised,” he replies. “I know Kunimi reached out to you.” 

Tobio scowls and huffs quietly, looking away. Tobio should’ve known Kunimi was lying. He’d messaged Tobio a few weeks ago, asking if his number was still the same, and if he could give it to Iwaizumi. Tobio had read between the lines and knew that what he was really asking was if Oikawa could have Tobio’s number. He’d said no, and told Kunimi to just tell Iwaizumi that the number he had was out of service, that Tobio must have changed it. And Kunimi wasn’t the first who’d asked. 

“He wants to talk to you,” Iwaizumi says lowly, after waiting until he could catch Tobio’s eye again. 

“We have nothing to talk about,” Tobio retorts, avoiding looking in Oikawa’s direction. They do, of course. Tobio knows he’s lying. But they also _don’t_. Tobio knows already, he knows what Oikawa thinks and feels and what he’d say. He thought they were in agreement, that they had an understanding. There was nothing to talk about two years ago, and there’s nothing to talk about now. 

Iwaizumi gives Tobio an unimpressed look, and then pointedly shifts his gaze down to Tobio’s wrist, and the black band around it. “Right,” he says flatly. “Course you don’t.” 

Tobio shifts to hide his wrist and looks away. He doesn’t manage that for long though, because an arm slings around his neck and drags him down. 

“Kageyama, you brat,” Suga drags him closer and ruffles his hair affectionately. “You haven’t even said hello to your senpai yet!” 

“Hello, Sugawara-senpai,” Tobio greets, muffled against Suga’s chest. 

“Hm!” Suga huffs. “That’s better.” He blessedly releases Tobio, only to then drag him away from Iwaizumi and over to Daichi by the bus. Tobio is quite certain that Suga has his own devious motives, but his senpai is also rescuing him from a conversation he really doesn’t want to have. So he’s more than happy to allow himself to be corralled across the parking lot. 

“Daichi!” Suga announces their presence to the man before them, not that he really needs to. “I’ve solved our problem!”

“Eh?” Tobio twists to look at Suga. “What problem?”

“The after party of course,” Suga says. “We need somewhere to host it, and you’ve got a nice big empty house.” 

“Suga, shouldn’t you ask first?” Asahi laughs nervously. 

“Nonsense!” Suga huffs. “Kageyama, you’ll host us right? You’ll host your best and most favorite senpais?” 

As much as Tobio would like to say that Suga isn’t actually asking, he knows they’d move on easily if he said no. But Tobio wants to say yes. He doesn’t want to go home to overbearing silence. He wants noise and chaos and his _team_. So he says, “Oh, yeah. Sure.” 

Suga cheers in response, and Tobio thinks he may lose hearing in the ear on Suga’s side if the night carries on like this, and considering he’s used to Shouyou’s level of noise, that’s saying something. 

\---

“Why are you avoiding the Grand King?” Shouyou sidles up next to Tobio to ask. 

“I’m not,” Tobio huffs. He is. He absolutely is. Oikawa has tried at least twice so far to conveniently set himself and Tobio up alone. First in the kitchen, when Tobio was gathering drinks, and again in the hallway leading to the bathroom. He knows he’s probably being childish, or petty, or _something_. But he doesn’t care enough to stop. He’d ducked back into the kitchen to hide when Shouyou had followed after him. 

“You definitely are,” Shouyou rolls his eyes. He then looks thoughtful, and in Tobio’s experience, that’s either going to be a really good thing, or a really bad thing. “Hey. You know you were amazing today, right?” 

Tobio blinks and turns to face Shouyou fully. “Huh?”

“You were amazing,” Shouyou repeats, locking Tobio into that intense gaze. “Your sets were perfect, and I’ve never seen you play the way you did today. You have nothing to worry about.” 

Oh. Oh, now he understands. He can’t blame Shouyou for misinterpreting his avoidance of Oikawa, given their history and the jabs Oikawa sent his way during their first year. It’s not the reason, but Tobio feels some tension soothe away all the same. “Thanks,” he says quietly, dropping a hand onto Shouyou’s head. “You too.” Shouyou beams up at him, and when he looks at Tobio like that, Tobio can’t help but think that it’s okay. It’s okay things turned out this way. 

\---

Somehow, towards the end of the night, they all end up piled in Tobio’s living room, sprawled and draped across the couches, arm chairs, and the floor. Kei has wedged himself between Tobio and Tadashi, if only to have an excuse to not be wedged between Kuroo and Bokuto instead. Tobio nearly had to sit with Oikawa on the other side of him, but he’d been saved by Tanaka. He’d have to thank him later, call him senpai a few times, for old time’s sake. 

Inevitably, the conversation makes its way around to University, and Tobio smirks as Shouyou groans loudly, after Daichi levels them all with a look and says, “I hope you’ve all been studying hard for your entrance exams.” 

“I don’t know what you’re smirking like that for, King,” Kei drawls. “You’re just as bad.” 

“Bastard!” Tobio spits, jabbing Kei in the ribs. “I’m studying plenty!” 

“Oh really?” Suga asks with a serene smile. Tobio shudders and leans away. 

“Suga, you’re still terrifying sometimes,” Asahi says, and everyone laughs. Tobio most definitely does _not_ focus on the sound of Oikawa’s laugh over everyone else’s. 

“I imagine the four of you have received offers already,” Ushijima says, leaning forward with interest. 

“If they haven’t already, they definitely will soon,” Iwaizumi agrees. “Placing third at nationals is bound to draw notice.” 

“I’ve gotten one, but I don’t think I’m going to take it,” Tadashi says sheepishly. Tobio looks down at his lap, trying very much not to pout, but he can’t help it. 

“Tobio-chan, what’s with that face?” Oikawa laughs. Tobio huffs and scowls. 

“The King thinks Tadashi should keep playing,” Kei answers for him. 

“And what about you, Tsukki?” Kuroo smirks. “Are you done with your little club now?” 

“Shut up,” Kei hisses. 

“He’s got three offers already,” Tobio supplies helpfully. The glee in Bokuto and Kuroo’s eyes is well worth the stabbing jab to his stomach. 

“Tobio and I have four!” Shouyou chimes in. “I can’t decide between Kansei and Chuo.” 

“It should be obvious, Chibi-chan!” Oikawa cries, pointing at him. “Come to Chuo! I’m there, so you know it’s the best.” 

“No no no!” Bokuto shouts. “Hinata, you have to come to Kansei. Come play with me and Tetsu! We’ll be the giant ace and the little ace!” 

“Babe I don’t think that’s how it works,” Kuroo laughs, even as Shouyou beams and enters an excited back and forth with Bokuto. 

“Stop trying to corrupt Chibi-chan!” Oikawa snaps. “If he wants to be a little ace, he should obviously come play with me.” 

“We’ve beaten you a few times, Tooru,” Kuroo points out. 

“The last I checked, we were three-two in our favor,” Oikawa says, examining his nails. “My school is clearly better.” 

“Oi, enough of the ‘my school’ shit!” Iwaizumi says gruffly. “Wakatoshi and I are there too, Crappykawa.” 

Shouyou starts to gush about the idea of playing on the same team as Oikawa and Ushijima, even as Bokuto loudly despairs, but Tobio’s attention is drawn to Iwaizumi. “It’s good to hear you’re still playing, Iwaizumi-san.” 

Next to Iwaizumi, Oikawa’s mouth twitches downward, and he has that Look. The one he always has around Tobio. Tobio still hasn’t quite figured out what it means. It’s odd though, he’s not looking at Tobio this time. He’s looking at Iwaizumi. 

“Ah, no,” Iwaizumi shakes his head. “I’m not. Not on the University team, anyway.” 

“What?” Tobio falters, trying to wrap his head around the idea of Iwaizumi not playing on Chuo’s team. “Why not?” He knows he sounds wounded, perhaps personally offended by Iwaizumi’s choice, but he can’t help it. 

Iwaizumi groans. “Not you too, Kageyama.”

“You see?” Oikawa says loudly, leaning into Iwaizumi’s space. “I’m not the only one! Tell him, Tobio-chan, tell him how much of a waste it is for him to stop playing!” Oikawa is pouting at Tobio now, a determined glint in his eyes. 

“Uh,” Tobio leans back a bit, not entirely sure what to _do_ with that. “It’s, I mean...I don’t understand, Iwaizumi-san.” That look comes back to Oikawa’s face, and it seems like he’s almost glaring at Iwaizumi. 

“I don’t have any plans to play professionally after college,” Iwaizumi explains. “I’m in the Sports Medicine program.” 

“Are you interested in physical therapy?” Suga asks curiously. Iwaizumi nods.

“Either that, or sports training in general,” he says. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t dreaming of training for the national team. If only to keep an eye on this idiot.” Iwaizumi jerks a thumb at Oikawa, who squawks indignantly, despite his wide grin. 

“What about you, Kageyama?” Daichi asks. “Hinata said you got four offers as well?” 

“Yeah,” Tobio nods. “Two of the same schools as Shou, and two others. I haven’t decided yet.” 

“Were you invited to our school as well?” Ushijima leans forward with interest. Tobio can’t help but feel unsettled by the weight of his staring. He’s not sure why Ushijima seems so invested in Tobio’s answer. He already has Oikawa, and Oikawa is still the better setter between the two of them. 

“Uh, yeah,” Tobio confirms. “Kansei, Waseda, Tokai, and Chuo.” Tobio doesn’t look at Oikawa, but he can already imagine it. The sneer, the gleam in his eyes, a snide voice saying ‘Don’t even _think_ of coming to my school, Tobio-chan’. When it doesn’t come, Tobio allows himself a quick glance, and immediately regrets it. Oikawa is staring at him intently, questions burning behind his eyes that Tobio can’t even begin to decipher. Tobio clears his throat and looks back at Ushijima. “They’re all good schools,” he says diplomatically. 

“Ours is the best,” Ushijima replies simply. “You should keep that in mind.” Ushijima has never really struck Tobio as the kind of person to say something with hidden meaning behind it, but Tobio can’t help but feel like he is now. 

“Right,” Tobio agrees slowly. “I will.” He hopes Oikawa hears the lie in his words. 

\---

Oikawa doesn’t try to pin Tobio down again for the rest of the night, and Tobio feels like he can finally release the breath he’s been holding. Maybe Oikawa got what he needed. He didn’t want Tobio to come to his school, and Tobio’s message that he wasn’t going to made it through. Tobio hates this strange silent conversation they’ve been having now for two years, but he hates the idea of hearing Oikawa’s dismissal and hatred in person even more. 

Everyone except Tobio’s fellow third years have gone home now, and Kei is the only other one still awake. Tadashi, Shouyou, and Hitoka are all curled up and tangled together on the futons in the living room, while Tobio quietly works away at the dishes in the sink. He thought Kei was in the living room reading, until the taller boy is suddenly standing at his side. 

“Here,” Kei says, thrusting something into Tobio’s line of sight. Tobio has to lean back from the sink to look at the small piece of paper. 

“Huh?” He responds intelligently. 

Kei huffs and rolls his eyes. “Take it,” he wiggles the paper. 

“What is it?” Tobio asks, narrowing his eyes at it. 

“Can’t you just take it?” Kei gripes. “I don’t want to have this conversation.” 

“What conversation?” Tobio frowns at him. “You’re the one trying to give me something.” 

“Just, fucking, look at it Tobio,” Kei snaps. Tobio glares but does as he says, the glare melting away with Tobio’s exhaustion when he realizes it’s a phone number. “I don’t know why he didn’t give this to the shrimp instead. Or Tadashi. Or Hitoka. Or literally anyone other than me. The last thing I want is to be dragged into the middle of whatever you and the Grand King have going on.” 

Tobio snatches the paper from Kei and shoves it in his pocket. “Nothing,” he tries to snap, but it comes out as a whisper instead. “We don’t have anything going on.” 

“Right,” Kei sighs, and then groans. “This is so stupid. Look. Just...save his number. You don’t have to do anything with it. But at least save it.” 

“Why?” Tobio asks, ignoring how petulant he sounds. 

“I don’t know,” Kei shrugs. “At least you’ll know to ignore it?” 

That...seems like a good enough reason, actually. So Tobio heaves a sigh, and pulls out his phone, and saves Oikawa Tooru’s number, hoping that he’ll never actually have to use it. 

\-----

Tobio is 15, and he doesn’t know why Hinata is dragging him around behind the gym instead of towards the road where they usually walk home after staying late to practice. 

“Dumbass!” Tobio barks. “What are you doing?” 

Hinata doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t stop dragging Tobio either, not until they’re completely behind the gym. He doesn’t let go of Tobio’s wrist. “Stay over at my house tonight,” Hinata finally blurts out. 

Tobio tries to yank his hand out of Hinata’s grip, but it only tightens. “What?” Tobio replies. “Why? And why did you have to drag me all the way over here to ask that?” 

“Kageyama, _please_ ,” Hinata begs, and Tobio stills, taking a closer look at his teammate. Hinata looks nervous and excited all at once, the way he looks before a match. And suddenly, it clicks. 

“It’s your birthday tomorrow,” Tobio blinks down at him. “Right?” 

“I don’t want to be alone,” Hinata mumbles, looking down and away. There’s something...more, something else going on, but Tobio recognizes this. This fear, this desperation, this loneliness. 

“Okay,” Tobio agrees. “Let’s go.” The wobbly smile Hinata gives him in return is even warmer than the summer air that surrounds them. 

\---

They’re sitting on the floor in Hinata’s bedroom, across from each other but close enough that their knees are touching. There’s about ten minutes left until midnight, and Hinata won’t stop staring intently at his wrist. Tobio can understand why Hinata would be a little nervous, but he’s learned to read his teammate over the past few months. It seems…like there’s more to it than that. 

“Hinata?” Tobio tries speaking softly. He’s not sure he quite manages it. Hinata hums to show that he’s listening. “Why are you so afraid?” 

He expects Hinata to glare and shout, maybe jab at him like he does when Tobio insults him during practice. Instead, he just sighs. “I don’t really want a soulmate,” Hinata finally admits. 

Tobio’s shock leads to a full body jolt, and he stares at Hinata. “Really?” 

Hinata laughs shakily. “I know it’s weird,” he says, rubbing a thumb over his wrist, where in a few short minutes, one of three soulmarks will appear—his soulmate’s name, a mark that means his soulmate is younger and he’ll have to wait, or a mark that means he doesn’t have one. “I just...I’ve never wanted one. When I think about dating or being married to someone or just being romantic, I don’t feel...I don’t want it. I really, _really_ don’t want it.” 

Tobio doesn’t know what to say to that, because it’s just so...opposite to what he feels, what he’s felt as long as he can remember. Tobio almost opens his mouth to ask if Hinata is sure, if he really knows, but then he pauses. If he himself knows without a doubt that he wants it, is it really so strange for Hinata to know he doesn’t? 

Tobio still doesn’t know what to say, so he reaches out and curls his hands around Hinata’s wrists. He doesn’t say anything, but Hinata seems calmer under his hands, even as his pulse stacattos against Tobio’s palms. They watch the clock on Hinata’s phone together, and when midnight flashes across the screen, Hinata gasps and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Tobio slowly pulls his hands away from Hinata’s wrists and looks down. There’s writing on Hinata’s right wrist, and the name is familiar. For a moment, Tobio dreads what Hinata will feel when he sees it. But then...he wonders. 

“Hinata, open your eyes,” he urges. Hinata’s lip wobbles, and he scrunches his eyes shut tighter for a moment before he acquiesces and opens them. 

“Kenma,” he breathes out softly. As if on cue, Hinata’s phone begins to ring, Kenma’s name filling the screen. Tobio moves to leave, to give him privacy, but Hinata latches onto his wrist with a grip tight enough to tell Tobio he’s not going anywhere. His hand shakes as he picks up his phone, and he repeats Kenma’s name when he answers it. Tobio can hear the low hum of Kenma’s voice, though not his words. But within a few seconds, Hinata’s expression smooths out into a relieved smile that just gets wider and wider as tears trickle down his cheeks. 

“Me too, Kenma,” Hinata chokes out, laughing joyously. “Me too.” 

Tobio ducks his head down to hide his tiny smile. He’s trying his best not to smile around the team anymore, after how they reacted last time, but he just can’t help himself this time. 

\---

Tobio has to hide his smile again in September when, a few days after Yachi’s birthday, she and Shimizu enter the gym holding hands, their names adorning each others’ wrists. 

\---

Tsukishima wears a black band around his wrist, and won’t tell anyone what is under it. Tobio doesn’t really care, partially because it’s Tsukishima, and partially because it’s none of his business. He won’t deny that watching Hinata pester him about it constantly is a good source of free entertainment though.

\---

Tsukishima’s band disappears after Yamaguchi’s birthday, after they learn that they’re not in fact soulmates. At first, Tobio feels a bit sorry for them, until he hears the relief lacing their words, and realizes they must feel too much like brothers. The name on Yamaguchi’s wrist came first, Tsukishima’s a few days later, both unfamiliar. 

\---

Tobio is 15, and he’s watching a clock countdown the final minute to midnight on a stormy December night. Hinata had offered to come over and stay the night, like Tobio did for him, but Tobio had turned him down. In part because he didn’t want Hinata’s mother driving in this weather. She’s far too nice to be inconvenienced like that. But it’s also…

This is the one time Tobio wants to be alone. Normally he hates it, hates the silence and the restlessness that comes with this big, empty house. But right now, it’s a soothing balm to his nerves. 

Just thirty more seconds, and Tobio will hopefully learn the name of someone who will love him. Who will understand him, and like him despite how unlikable he is. 

\-----

Tobio is 5, and he doesn’t understand why no one will be his friend. He’s watched his classmates and how they interact with each other, how you’re supposed to act when you’re friends. And he’s _trying_ , he really is. It just…

Tobio is 6, and he’s still trying, but he’s starting to wonder if there’s a secret. Some kind of rulebook, or step by step guide to being a person, and everyone else but him has gotten to read it. Strained smiles from his teachers, sneers and disinterest from his peers, Tobio reads them all and feels like they’re hiding some truth from him. 

But Tobio is 7, and his grandfather has taught him how to play volleyball, and his grandfather is kind. His smiles are real, he likes Tobio, he maybe even loves him, and he’s given him volleyball. 

And Tobio is 8, 9, 10, 11, and he has volleyball and his grandfather, and sometimes Miwa. And they _love_ him. Tobio doesn’t really understand why he lives with his grandfather while Miwa lives with their mother, or why he never sees his father. He does understand that he’s not very likeable, and that’s why he doesn’t have any friends, but it’s okay now. He has volleyball, and a team, and even if they’re not his friends, they play with him. 

Tobio is 12, and Oikawa Tooru is _everything._ He has volleyball the same way Tobio has volleyball, and Tobio has never met someone who has volleyball the way he does before. Tobio thinks Oikawa is beautiful, even though he knows it’s odd to call another boy that. But he is. Everyone loves Oikawa, and Tobio can’t blame them. He also can’t blame Oikawa for not liking him. But for some reason...usually Tobio can let it go, he understands when people don’t like him, because he’s not likeable, but he can’t let it go this time. He wants Oikawa to like him. They don’t have anything in common, except for volleyball, so Tobio tries to use volleyball, _Oikawa’s_ volleyball, to get Oikawa to like him. 

But Tobio is 12, and Oikawa _must_ hate him. Tobio doesn’t have the rulebook like everyone else, but he thinks he can interpret Oikawa’s hand swinging at his face well enough without it. 

It’s okay if Oikawa hates him, Tobio decides. He just has to keep himself convinced that it’s okay. 

And it is, because Tobio is 13, and he has volleyball, and his grandfather, and Miwa. 

And then it’s not, because Tobio is 14, and he can’t really tell if he has volleyball anymore, because he doesn’t have his grandfather, and he doesn’t have Miwa. He has a distant shadow in the vague shape of a father, but he doesn’t know what that means yet. 

But...Tobio is 15, and a new team is giving him a chance. The rules seem different at Karasuno, compared to everywhere else. 

He’s 15, and Oikawa hates him, wants to crush him, shows him over and over that he’s the better one between them, as if Tobio hasn’t known that since the moment he first set eyes on him. 

He’s 15, and Oikawa will never not hate him, not after they’ve taken his last chance at nationals away, and Tobio thinks it’s finally okay that Oikawa hates him. He thought they were just his teammates—Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Yachi, but they’re not they’re…

They’re Shouyou, and Kei, and Tadashi, and Hitoka. They understand him, not completely but enough. They like him, despite how unlikeable he is. 

And soon, soon Tobio will know if there’s someone out there like them, who will understand him completely, who will let him read the rulebook and break the rules without consequence, who will like him and love him despite...maybe _because_ of how unlikeable he is. 

\---

Tobio is 15, and then he’s 16, and Oikawa Tooru’s name is on his wrist, and it feels like something is swallowing him from the inside out. 

\-----

Tobio is 18, and he’s specifically picked Kansei because Oikawa is supposed to be at Chuo. 

And then those brown eyes lock with blue, and Oikawa is looking at Tobio, but he’s never looked at him quite like this before.

“Hello, Tobio-chan.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t really have an update schedule for any of my stories right now, so I can’t promise when the next chapter will come. I work in a COVID related position, so the writer’s block is a bit strong most days. But I hope y’all stick around if you like the story!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! 
> 
> An update this quick will _absolutely_ not be a regular thing, I just got very lucky with the brain going zoom and ended up with this monster. This chapter got away from me a little bit and is longer than I planned. I was trying to wait until I had the third chapter written to post this but I got impatient because reading everyone’s comments makes me too happy. 
> 
> I hope y’all enjoy! 

“Hello, Tobio-chan.”

The rush in Tobio’s ears snaps to a stop, and it occurs to him that he can’t just stare aimlessly at Oikawa for much longer. “Oikawa-san,” he clears his throat. “What—“

“What are you DOING here?!” Shouyou exclaims. “You go to Chuo!” 

Bless Hinata Shouyou. Bless his inability to read the tension between Tobio or Oikawa, or perhaps his decision to simply ignore it and take over the conversation. 

“Not anymore,” Kuroo drawls, slinging an arm around Oikawa’s shoulders. “As of yesterday, we’re officially stuck with this bastard.” 

“Excuse you, I am a _gift_ ,” Oikawa snaps. “And we’re not going to pretend otherwise.” 

Kuroo throws his head back and cackles. “Yeah, okay,” he grins. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess.” 

“So mean, Testu-chan! I miss Iwa-chan.” 

“Weren’t you the one bragging about your school being the best?” Kei interjects, crossing his arms. “If you miss your Iwa-chan so much, why leave him?” Kei glances at Tobio, and Tobio pointedly ignores him, refusing to meet his eyes. He’s never told any of them about Oikawa’s name on his wrist. Not once in two years has he taken the band off in their presence. But after that party a few months ago, it’s not surprising that Kei has him figured out. 

“So nosy, Tsukki,” Oikawa waves a hand at Kei, and Tobio coughs to stifle a laugh at the venomous look Kei gives Oikawa. And he wonders if he’s imagining the way Oikawa’s eyes brighten when he does. 

“Absolutely not,” Kei snaps. “You’re not calling me that.” 

“So cruel!” Oikawa pouts. _Cute,_ Tobio thinks. And then, _No. Not going there._ “You let Kou-chan and Tetsu-chan call you that.” 

“I don’t,” Kei hisses through grit teeth, while Bokuto and Kuroo laugh in unison. “They have no self preservation instinct. I would think you’re better than that.” 

“I guess we’ll see,” Oikawa laughs. He meets Tobio’s eyes again, and the moment leaves Tobio dizzy with bewilderment. Oikawa Tooru does not smile at Kageyama Tobio like that. Tobio may not understand most of the rules of the world, but that is one of the few that’s clear to him. “You’re looking a little lost there, Tobio-chan.” 

Tobio grits his teeth and tries not to scowl too deeply. The ones he knows understand his history with Oikawa. But the rest of the team...Tobio would rather not make a terrible first impression. The deck is stacked against him enough as it is. 

“Of course we’re lost,” Shouyou huffs. “You’re supposed to be at Chuo, Grand King! This is Kansei.” Kei snickers quietly. 

“We’ve established that already, Shouyou,” he taunts. 

“Well yeah but—“

“Oikawa’s choice to transfer to Kansei is something he can share with you _on his own time,_ ” a voice interjects, and Tobio straightens up to look at the captain of the team, a fourth year named Toriumi. He’s leveling Oikawa with a look that Tobio is quite familiar with. It’s the same way Kei looks at Tobio and Shouyou when they come to him for help with schoolwork, and he deems their intelligence to be disturbingly low and infuriating. Tobio worries how Oikawa will react to that, but he just laughs and claps his hands together with a little bow in the older man’s direction. 

“Of course Kento-senpai,” he croons. “I’m very sorry.” 

“No you’re not,” Toriumi grouches, shoving at Oikawa’s shoulder to send him over with the other upperclassmen. Tobio remembers now why the man looks so familiar. He’s a Seijoh alum a year ahead of Oikawa, and three years ahead of Tobio. 

Tobio never actually got to meet him, but he remembers going to a match once with Kindaichi and Kunimi. Tobio can’t remember if he plays middle blocker or outside hitter, but he does remember echoes of Daichi’s play style. It will be nice to have a captain like Daichi again, Tobio thinks. And if he can keep Oikawa in line, even better. 

The rest of the afternoon is honestly a blur, save for when it’s time to introduce themselves. 

“Kageyama Tobio,” he announces, trying to ignore the whispers of deja vu circling around him. “I’m a setter.” Just like those many years ago, Tobio can feel the weight of Oikawa’s gaze on him, a prickling under his skin. This time, he doesn’t let himself look at Oikawa, opting for the safety of avoiding the gravity of his eyes, and the hatred he’d see in them. 

“Another one,” one of the fourth years groans. “It’s bad enough I have to compete with Oikawa, but I don’t stand a chance against a _genius_.” 

Tobio can’t quite stop the flinch at that word, nor the way his stomach sinks and twists and threatens to drag him into the ground. _Not again_. 

“I don’t understand why everyone calls you that,” Shouyou huffs loudly, crossing his arms and pouting petulantly. “They wouldn’t be saying that if they saw you doing English homework.” 

“Shouyou, you _dumbass_!” Tobio hisses, choking on a near laugh, half enraged and half relieved beyond measure. 

“He’s right,” Kei says dryly. Tobio lifts a hand to cover his mouth, ducking his head to hide his smile. 

“That just makes it worse,” the fourth year waves a hand dismissively. “Clueless in everything else but a genius setter.” 

“If all you can see Tobio-chan as is a genius,” Oikawa interjects coldly. “Then you’re severely underestimating him.” 

Tobio’s head whips in Oikawa’s direction, eyes wide as he stares at the older man. Oikawa isn’t looking at him this time, instead glaring at the fourth year. 

“Jealousy is a good look on you,” the fourth year says lowly. 

“That’s _enough_ ,” Toriumi snaps. “Motome, you’re out of line. Drop it. Understood?” 

“Yeah, alright,” Motome agrees easily. 

Far too easily for it to truly be over, Tobio knows. The twitch in Oikawa’s jaw is a pretty good indication that he’s having the same thought, but his expression softens when his gaze returns to Tobio. Tobio doesn’t know what to do with this Oikawa, who speaks up in his defense, and looks at him like this. His eyes stray back to the safety of the gym floor for the remainder of the meeting. He’s missing things, things that are important. He’ll have to ask Shouyou and Kei later what the captain spoke about after that. 

When it’s over, Tobio starts to follow Shouyou, Kei, and Kindaichi towards the door. It really shouldn’t be a surprise when Oikawa’s voice carries over and halts him. 

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa calls out. “Just a moment. Can we talk?” 

Kindaichi and Shouyou pause for a moment to look at Tobio before they continue to the door, but Kei stops and waits. Tobio looks between them, at Oikawa and then at Kei, his voice stuck in his throat. 

“King,” Kei says quietly. “You coming?” 

“I…” 

“Just a minute or two, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa urges, much closer than he was before. Tobio turns back to him, to the hand reaching out to him, and shies away. 

“Don’t,” he chokes out, panic overtaking his voice. He knows, distantly, that the likelihood of them touching is much higher now that they’re on the same team. But it’s the one thing he needs to avoid at all costs. Now that their names are on each other’s wrists, touch is all it will take to open their bond. Tobio _can’t_. He can manage this, he thinks, as long as they don’t have _that_. 

Oikawa pulls his hand back, and then lifts both, palms facing Tobio. “Okay, Tobio-chan,” he says calmly. “Okay.” 

“King,” Kei repeats, insistently. “Let’s go.” 

“I didn’t know,” Tobio blurts out, looking at Oikawa intently. “I picked Kansei because—I didn’t know you were coming here. I didn’t...” 

“Oh, Tobio,” Oikawa breathes. “I _know_.” 

“Tobio,” Kei finally snaps, stepping between him and Oikawa, a shield against the overwhelming softness coming from the older setter that Tobio doesn’t know what to do with, the voice that cradles his heart like it’s something fragile. Kei sighs and puts a hand on his shoulder, pushing him towards the door. “Come on.” Tobio nods dumbly and allows Kei to propel him through the door, frowning at the glare that Kei tosses over his shoulder at Oikawa. 

“You two need to figure this out,” Kei sighs. “But not today.” 

“Yeah,” Tobio agrees, nodding and tipping his head back to catch some glints of sun on his cheeks. “Not today.” 

\---

“I want curry!” Shouyou declares loudly, as Tobio and Kei walk through the door into their suite. “You’ll make some, right?” 

“Of course, dumbass,” Tobio pushes Shouyou’s face out of his personal space, the corner of his mouth twitching up slightly. “Don’t be so loud. We have neighbors.” 

Tobio drops his bag near the entrance and switches into his slippers. His heart does something funny then, a little flutter, when he notices that Shouyou and Kei also brought the crow slippers Hitoka made them—fuzzy and black, with button eyes and beaks. A piece of home. 

He moves over to the small kitchenette in their suite, and starts to gather what he needs from the fridge. It’s not really a surprise that Shouyou is demanding curry. They’d bought the ingredients the day before, of course. Tobio piles everything on a counter, and glares when Shouyou slams his hands down on the surface.

“Can I help?” He asks, still far too loud in Tobio’s opinion. Kei’s too, judging by the light swat he delivers to Shouyou’s head. 

“You can watch,” Tobio corrects. “There’s not enough room for both of us in here.” 

“You’re the one always pointing out how small I am, Bakageyama,” Shouyou pouts, rubbing the back of his head. All the same, he settles in to watch as Tobio prepares the vegetables. 

“I didn’t know you could cook, King,” Kindaichi says, looking over at them from the couch. Tobio ducks his head in time to hide his flinch, knife stalling in its gentle slide across the cutting board. 

“Don’t call him that,” Kei snaps coldly. 

Kindaichi looks stunned for all of about two seconds before his mouth twists. “You call him that all the time,” he points out gruffly. 

“It’s different,” Kei retorts. “You—” 

“It’s fine,” Tobio interjects quickly, drawing both of their eyes to him. Kei’s eyes glint behind his glasses, and Tobio shakes his head before he can say anything. “Kei. It’s fine.” 

Tobio holds steady as Kei stares him down, keeping his expression carefully smooth and neutral, until Kei finally huffs and glares, turning away to walk towards his room. “Text me when dinner is ready,” he says sharply, making Shouyou hiss in sympathy as he pats Tobio’s hand. 

“Good luck with... _that_ ,” Shouyou says, but it sounds much more like ‘it was nice knowing you’. Tobio sighs. 

He can feel that pervasive awkwardness radiating from the living area, where Kindaichi is still sitting on the couch, watching Tobio and Shouyou. Tobio clears his throat and answers Kindaichi’s question from before...that. 

“My grandfather taught me,” he explains, returning to cutting through the vegetables. “I made sure to keep learning after he died.” 

“Oh, uh…sorry?” Kindaichi offers. 

Tobio glances up from the cutting board, surprised by the gesture. “It’s fine,” he says quickly. “It was a few years ago.” Something shifts in Kindaichi’s expression, though Tobio can’t really read him the way he can Shouyou or Kei. But Kindaichi doesn’t say anything, so Tobio turns his attention back to cooking, explaining the steps to Shouyou as he completes them. 

By the time it’s done, the smell of curry and pork and rice is wafting through their suite, and it brings it one step closer to feeling like a home. Shouyou, the sneaky little bastard that he is, ducks under Tobio’s arm to get his serving before Tobio can even announce that it’s ready. That feels like home too, and Tobio can’t bring himself to shout at him. 

Tobio prepares two bowls, and takes one in each hand as he steps out of the kitchenette. He pauses to look at Kindaichi, and jerks his head towards the pot to let him know it’s done. Kindaichi blinks at him in stunned silence, but it appears he doesn’t hate Tobio enough to turn down free food. It’s not exactly a high bar, but Tobio will take what he can get. 

He walks down the short hall to Kei’s door, and realizes that he hasn’t exactly thought this through, as he now stands before it with no way to open it. That conundrum is short-lived, because Tobio decides to kick his foot against the door repeatedly, increasing in volume until it finally yanks inwards. 

“You are such a pain in the ass,” Kei snaps down at him from the doorway. 

Tobio shrugs at him and pushes his way into the room, smirking at the heavy sigh he gets in response. Tobio sits down against the wall and waits, knowing that Kei’s stomach is more stubborn than his brain. With another defeated sigh, Kei closes the door and sinks down next to him, holding his hand out for his bowl. Tobio hands it over, and lets their first few bites go by in silence.

Tobio looks away to hide a smile as Kei eats, the curry thawing through his irritation. “Am I forgiven?” He asks quietly. 

“That depends,” Kei responds. 

“On?” Tobio counters. 

“If you even know why I’m pissed to begin with,” Kei says, and Tobio winces. 

He takes a few more bites to avoid answering right away, but he doesn’t last very long before admitting defeat. “Not really. I was bossy?” 

“No, King,” Kei admonishes.

“Oh,” Tobio frowns. “Then...no. I guess I don’t.” 

Kei sighs, and shakes his head when Tobio looks at him, so they eat in somewhat comfortable silence until their bowls are clear. The sunlight filtering into the room begins to fade, draping down the walls until it reaches the floor, and Tobio sets his bowl to the side so he can tug his knees up to his chest and wrap his arms around them. 

“Why are you letting him call you that?” Kei breaks the silence carefully but firmly. 

“I think he has a right to,” Tobio props his chin on his knee. “More than pretty much anyone else, except maybe Kunimi.” 

“It’s been four years,” Kei points out. “You’re not the same. Neither are they.” 

“Neither are you,” Tobio replies. “But you still call me King.” 

“It’s different,” Kei echoes his words from earlier. 

“Is it?” Tobio challenges, raising a brow at him. 

Kei falters, his expression smoothing into rare surprise with no irritation behind it. “Tobio,” he says slowly. “Why do you think I call you King?” 

Tobio frowns at him. “Because of middle school,” he matches Kei’s slow pace, wondering if they’re both thinking the other is an idiot. “When I was...worse.” 

Kei groans loudly and lets his head fall back against the wall with a _thunk_!, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Kei?” Tobio reaches out to poke his jaw. “Are you dead?” 

Kei swats his hand away and opens his eyes, dropping his hand from his face. He leans in suddenly, glaring fiercely. “Listen to me,” he commands. “Are you listening?” 

“Um,” Tobio responds dumbly. “Yes?” 

Kei’s glare, somehow, deepens further. “You’re right, that I called you that because of middle school,” he says. Tobio nods, because this is obvious to him. “But,” Kei snaps, reigning Tobio back in. “It changed. Because _you_ changed. Get it?” 

“Oh,” Tobio’s brow furrows. “Uh. Not really?” 

“It’s a term of affection you dim-witted _insufferable_ moron!” Kei growls. “You’re not the King because you’re some tyrannical egotistical ruler. You _lead_. You aim for the top, and you...you take us with you. I trust you.” 

Something squeezes in Tobio’s chest, warm and secure and _home_. His mouth twitches against his will, wobbly and unsteady, and he ducks his head away to hide his smile. Kei sighs softly and drops a hand down on top of his head, allowing Tobio to lean into the contact. 

“That’s why it bothers me,” Kei says quietly. “He calls you that because of the past. I think you’ve paid your dues.” 

“Maybe I haven’t,” Tobio suggests. “Isn’t that up to him and Kunimi?” 

“You apologized,” Kei points out. “Twice, if I remember correctly. Possibly three times. You’ve changed your behavior. What more do they need from you? We’re 18, you were just a kid.” 

“So were they,” Tobio says defensively. “I hurt them.” 

“That doesn’t mean you should have to suffer forever,” Kei snaps. “It has to end eventually. Why not now?” 

“I...don’t know,” Tobio admits. “But, Kei. It’s...it’s okay that he hates me. That’s just how things are. Kindaichi, Kunimi, Oikawa...they hate me, and that’s okay.” 

“Wait,” Kei sputters, half laughing half gasping at him. “Hold on. You-” Kei rubs a hand down his face. “You think _Oikawa_ hates you?” Kei narrows his eyes and peers closer at Tobio’s face. “Tell me you’re not that stupid.” 

Tobio frowns. “But—”

“No, you know what, _no_ ,” Kei shakes his head firmly. “I refuse to have this conversation, we’re done. Come on.” Kei stands, reaching out to grab Tobio’s hand and pull him up. “I doubt Shou has done the dishes. That’ll be up to us, as usual.” 

Tobio is perfectly content to not have this conversation, especially with Kei, so he nods and follows him back out to the common area. To their surprise, the dishes _are_ done, and the leftover curry seems to have been packaged away already. Tobio crosses the room to the couch, leaning in to press his hand against Shouyou’s forehead. 

“Eh?” Shouyou shoves his hand away. “What the hell are you doing?!” 

“Checking to see if you’re sick,” Tobio says, matter-of-factly. “That’s the only explanation.” 

“For _what_?” Shouyou huffs. “Tobio, you bastard, I’m trying to watch the match!” 

“You did the dishes,” Kei says, something like pride and maybe horror in his voice. “I can’t believe you did the dishes…” 

“Ugh,” Shouyou sticks his tongue out. “No. Kindaichi did them. I offered to help though.” 

“You offer to help him but not us?!” Tobio barks. “Dumbass! You sneaky little dumbass!” Tobio lunges for Shouyou, growling when he dives off of the couch. It’s a fitting end to their first night, the final piece to make it home. Tobio is just surprised how easy it is to accept that Kindaichi may be a part of it. 

\--- 

“Shou let’s _go_ ,” Tobio barks impatiently, watching Shouyou scramble across the room in search of his jacket. “We’re going to be late.” 

“I pity the professor who has to have both of you at eight in the morning,” Kei remarks. “That’s just cruel.” 

Shouyou finally finds his jacket and shoves it on, following Kei and Tobio out the door. Kindaichi, who doesn’t have his first class until ten, gives them a lazy wave as they leave. 

“What are we going to again?” Shouyou asks, rummaging around in his bag for his phone. 

“Exercise science,” Tobio answers automatically. It’s the third time this morning that Shouyou has asked. “After that we split. You have a coaching science class, and I have nutrition. Then we’re back together for sports history.” 

“Right, I knew that!” Shouyou huffs. “I was just making sure you remembered. Eh, what about you, Tsukki?” 

“Unlike the two of you, there’s room in my brain for things other than volleyball and sports,” Kei rolls his eyes. “I have literature and English this morning. History this afternoon. We’re done around the same time.” 

“We should meet back at the suite before practice,” Tobio suggests. “I made dinner bentos.” 

“I owe you my life,” Shouyou declares, smiling brightly. 

“How tragic,” Kei murmurs, snickering when they both glare at him. 

Not long after, they reach Kei’s building and bid him goodbye. Inevitably, with the primary source of their impulse control gone, Tobio and Shouyou end up racing to their building. They pretty much always tie these days, but it’s fun and familiar all the same, and it soothes his nerves for their first day of University. 

\---

School, Tobio decides, is immeasurably better now that he actually cares about what he’s learning. He’s intimidated by his exercise science course, because science has never been his strong suit. Not that any subject has ever been his strong suit but...ignoring that, he’s actually _excited_ to learn it. It feels important, like something he can use and apply. 

Regular history is boring, but sports history is interesting enough to warrant Tobio’s focus, and memorization is always easy for him when he cares. By far though, nutrition is the course he’s most excited for. A marriage of his love for cooking with his love of volleyball, and with him being the one in charge of many of their meals, a chance to do something good for Kei and Shouyou. Kindaichi too, if he’ll continue to accept it. 

Tobio had doubts about attending University—what was the point, if he knew with sincere certainty that he was going to play professional volleyball? But Takeda-sensei had sat him and Shouyou down, had shown them the average age of retirement for professional volleyball players. Not to discourage them of course, but to remind them that there was something beyond, something after. 

Learning that there were academic programs focused around sports changed everything. It would make them even better athletes, Takeda-sensei had pointed out, if they studied the world they’d be entering. And it would build a foundation for the after, a way to continue living in that world for as long as possible. Like making themselves strong enough to stand on the court. 

They’re not the only ones, either. Kindaichi, Kuroo, Bokuto, and a number of the upperclassmen on their team are in the department as well. Tobio is pretty sure that Kei is among the minority on their team who aren’t in the Sport Sciences department. 

When he makes it back to the suite, Kei and Shouyou aren’t there yet, but he sees Kindaichi’s shoes in the entryway, and his slippers aren’t there, so he must be in. Tobio moves in an easy routine, switching into his slippers and gathering the bentos from the fridge. He lays three out on the counter, and hesitates with the fourth. 

After a few moments of indecision, he walks down the hall and knocks on Kindaichi’s door. 

“Ki-Kageyama,” Kindaichi greets stiffly. “What’s up?” 

Tobio’s throat closes around the words that try to come out, so he thrusts the bento out and manages, “Dinner. Before practice.” 

Kindaichi blinks a few times and hesitantly accepts the box, lifting the lid to peek inside. “Oh, wow,” he says. “Uh. Thanks? I mean, thank you. You...didn’t have to make me food again though.”

Tobio shrugs, and finds it easier to speak now that Kindaichi has accepted the food. “I was already making them for us. And you did the dishes last night. You didn’t have to do that.” 

“You cooked,” Kindaichi rubs the back of his neck, shuffling his feet. “It’s polite.” 

Tobio can’t help it, he snorts quietly, quickly lifting a hand to hide his mouth as his lips twitch into a smile. “Um,” Tobio clears his throat. “Sorry. It’s just...we, polite, uh—“

Somehow, Kindaichi seems to know what Tobio is trying to say, because his eyes glint a bit with mirth and he chuckles quietly. “Yeah,” he agrees. “Weird.” 

“Tobiooooo!” Shouyou’s voice suddenly crashes through the suite. “I’m STARVING!” 

Tobio scowls and shouts back as he marches down the hall back into the common area. “Dumbass, not so LOUD! It’s right there.” 

Shouyou cheers, and dives at the counter for his bento. Kei scoffs and grabs his, nudging Tobio’s his way. Tobio nods in thanks, and sits down next to Shouyou at their small table. It’s a tight fit, and they immediately begin a back and forth of elbowing and jabbing at each other. Kei sits across from them and rolls his eyes, carefully lifting his bento out of the way whenever one of them strays out of bounds. 

Unexpected movement makes them both freeze, when Kindaichi slowly sinks into the seat next to Kei with his bento. For one tortuously long moment, everything is tense and awkward; Tobio and Shouyou stare wordlessly at Kindaichi, while Kei’s mouth curls into a slight sneer. But then Kindaichi starts to eat, and hums appreciatively at the taste, and the moment is over. Shouyou steals one of Tobio’s onigiri, and they return to routine. Kindaichi watches Kei, and quickly learns the opportune moments to lift his bento to safety. 

\---

Familiarity is steeped into practice that night. It’s the first time Tobio is practicing with this team, but it’s not the first time he’s playing with Kei or Shouyou, or even Kuroo and Bokuto. The coach has them playing rapid matches, single sets to 10 points only with a timeout when the first team reaches 5, cycling them throughout the gym. 

Tobio is hyper aware of Oikawa’s presence, can feel the magnetic pull of his voice and the sonic booms of his serves as they orbit around each other. They remain on opposite corners of the gym, and Tobio is grateful for it. He could probably play against Oikawa right now, but if they ended up on the same side of the net…

He has other problems, though. Kei and Shouyou have been shuffled ahead of him now, and Kindaichi takes one of their spots as Motome settles onto the team across the net. The upperclassman smirks lazily at them. 

“Finally,” Motome says, stretching his arms out. “I’ve been dying to see the genius setter up close.” 

Tobio grits his teeth and manages not to flinch. There’s a hiss off to the side, on the court next to them. Tobio glances over, and isn’t sure whether the sound came from Shouyou, Kei, or Oikawa. He doesn’t have time to figure it out, as one of the assistant coaches blows their whistle to signal the start of the match. 

Motome’s team serves first, a strong jump serve, but nowhere near as strong as Oikawa’s or even Tobio’s. Tobio’s team receives it cleanly, and Tobio settles under the ball. It occurs to him then, rather suddenly, that the last time he tossed to Kindaichi was…

Tobio’s toss is slow, and _sloppy_ , a last minute decision to send it left instead of right. The third year he’d sent it to manages it just fine, and even compliments the toss after they land the point. But Motome’s smirk across the net is a pretty good indication that he noticed Tobio’s slip. 

It’s the only one he makes, but it lingers, and Motome’s team reaches 5 points before them, albeit only with a single point lead. They take their mid-set timeout, and Tobio glares down at his hands, the subtle tremble of his fingers. 

“We’re on the same team,” Kindaichi says quietly, suddenly standing next to him. Tobio jumps, and starts to ask what Kindaichi is getting at, but Kindaichi presses on before he can. “You can’t avoid tossing to me forever.” Tobio winces and sighs harshly, looking away. 

“I know,” Tobio mumbles. The assistant coach overseeing their match signals that the timeout is over. Tobio grunts and pauses before he returns to the court. “...Sorry.” 

Kindaichi doesn’t respond before Tobio walks away, and Tobio doesn’t let himself look back at him. He needs to focus, and get himself together. It’s just like any other match. Tobio is thankfully up to serve first for their team. It’s the only time in a game when everything relies on Tobio’s skills alone, and he thrives. He manages two points off of Motome’s team before they’re able to receive it and score back. It’s a small mercy, but it does put them in the lead. 

Motome prepares to serve, and Tobio flexes his fingers. He needs to toss to Kindaichi. The other man is right, it has to happen eventually. A second year on Tobio’s team just barely receives Motome’s serve. It’s nowhere near clean or ideal, but Tobio will work with any ball sent his way. Kindaichi is on his right again, and Tobio thinks of what he’s seen of him over the last three years. The form of his jump, the arc of his spike, the toss that Oikawa always gave him. 

It’s off. Tobio can tell the second his fingertips are no longer in contact with the ball. It’s a bit too high, and definitely too fast, and Tobio is 14 again, giving his teammates impossible tosses, driving them to the point of abandonment. 

“Sorry!” Tobio calls out, his ribs aching with the force of the panicked beating of his heart. He’s bewildered and left off balance when he doesn’t hear a dull thud like he expects, but the slap of a hand against the ball and the subsequent slam against the gym floor on the other side of the net. The assistant coach signals that it’s out, just barely, but…

Kindaichi hit it. 

Kindaichi turns to him, and Tobio is expecting anger, contempt, disdain, _hatred_ , but he sees none of that. He doesn’t know _what_ that look in Kindaichi’s eyes is, or what’s going to come out of his mouth. Motome interrupts before he can find out. 

“I don’t know what I was so worried about,” he snorts. “I expected better from the King of the Court.” 

Tobio tries, but he knows he doesn’t quite contain his flinch, judging by the satisfaction that flickers across Motome’s face. 

“Don’t call him that,” Kindaichi snaps. 

Motome’s face goes slack with surprise, and Tobio isn’t faring any better. For a moment, he’s certain that it must be Kei standing there, for the way Kindaichi is echoing the confrontation the night before. Kindaichi doesn’t let Motome respond; He turns his back on their upperclassman and faces Tobio. 

“Just...a bit slower next time?” Kindaichi says, tension and hesitation lining his frame. 

Tobio nods firmly. “Yes,” he agrees quickly. _Yes, anything, just stay,_ Tobio thinks. _Let me try again, I can do better, I can_ be _better_. “I will. Sorry.” 

Kindaichi shakes his head insistently, his eyes blazing. “Just a bit slower.” 

Tobio swallows against the relief that swells in his chest and threatens to claw its way out, nodding again. “I will,” Tobio promises. 

And he does. He tosses twice more to Kindaichi during the remainder of the match, a bit slower but still high. Neither are perfect, but Kindaichi won’t take his apologies for them. Tobio can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or not.

They win, 10-8, and Tobio thinks he understands now, the appeal of celebrating small victories. 

\---

Tobio takes a long, slow sip of his tea, and closes his eyes as the warmth crawls into his chest and curls up, seeping through his limbs in a comforting embrace. That match wasn’t the only small victory Tobio ended up celebrating his first week of University. Tobio is pretty sure he’s losing count of them at this point. 

Cooking for the four of them almost everyday, managing to only piss Kei off once or twice, keeping up with his classes, finally settling into the rhythm of his tosses during practice—all small victories that leave behind a pleasant exhaustion. 

Perhaps the biggest victory has been the miracle of managing to avoid Oikawa all week. Sure, they have to see each other at practice, but even then, luck seems to be on Tobio’s side. Aside from two practice sets against each other (one ending in Oikawa’s favor, the other in Tobio’s), they haven’t had much interaction. 

And so, Tobio is spending his Sunday off holed up with another victory—the small cafe he’d found far enough from campus that most of its clientele seem to be people older than Tobio. He’s only seen a handful of other customers who might be university students, and very few of them stick around. 

Tobio has claimed a table in the corner of the shop next to the window facing the street, giving him a perfect view both inside and outside the cafe. Subsequently, this gives him a perfect view of the moment his good luck runs out. 

The owner of the cafe greets Oikawa with enough familiarity for Tobio to realize he’s technically the intruder here, not the other way around. Oikawa hasn’t turned around yet, still facing the counter, so Tobio quickly begins packing his things. He slings his bag over his shoulder, picks up his tea, and sticks close to the edge of the room as he heads for the door. 

He’s so _close_ when Oikawa inevitably turns around, leaving them face to face and staring at each other. Oikawa’s eyes flick from the tea in Tobio’s hand to the table in the corner, his mouth curving into a small smile. 

“You probably shouldn’t leave that behind, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa says lightly.

Tobio turns back to look at the table, icy dread slinking down his spine when he recognizes the shape of his laptop on the ledge under the window. 

“Go sit down, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa instructs gently. “I’ll be over in a minute.” 

Tobio sighs and accepts defeat, trudging back over to the table to sink back into his chair. Oikawa joins him not long after, with a cup of tea and, predictably, a plate with milk bread. 

Oikawa grants Tobio the kindness of a few minutes of silence, not that it does much to soothe his nerves. He bounces his leg under the table and keeps his eyes fixed on his tea, until Oikawa reaches for a piece of his milk bread, and Tobio’s gaze catches on the black band around his wrist. 

“It doesn’t look any different than yours,” Oikawa says, alerting Tobio to the fact that he’s staring. Tobio flushes and looks away, not sure how to respond. 

He’s not sure about any of this. The entire reason he’d sought out somewhere far from campus was to get away, to hide from Shouyou’s ‘what’s going on with you, Bakageyama’ and Kei’s endless heavy stares. And now he’s sitting across from Oikawa, and Oikawa is looking at him with his hands folded under his chin, and Tobio doesn’t understand why he looks so…

“Tsukki seems to think I transferred to Kansei because of you,” Oikawa says suddenly. Tobio straightens up in his seat and nods. Kei had hinted at that a few times now, not that Tobio really knew what to _do_ with that. He wants more than anything to ask. 

“He’s not right,” Oikawa says, and Tobio nearly sinks down with relief. “But, he’s not wrong either.” 

“Huh?” Tobio blurts out, louder than he means to. 

Oikawa’s mouth pinches into a thin line, and Tobio winces, waiting for admonishment. Oikawa shifts in his seat to extend his leg out, looking down at it. “What do you know about my knee, Tobio-chan?” 

“Um,” Tobio falters, confused by the twist in their conversation. “Not much? I remember...back in middle school, after you graduated, Kindaichi mentioned you had an injury? And you wear a brace sometimes.” 

Oikawa smiles, but it’s the kind Tobio is familiar with. The kind that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I was in an accident,” Oikawa confirms. “I haven’t had to get surgery yet.” 

“Yet,” Tobio echoes, frowning at the way his stomach begins to churn. “Do you mean…?” 

“I will someday,” Oikawa nods. “It’s inevitable. If I wasn’t an athlete, I might be fine.” Oikawa pauses to take a few sips of his tea, and though he looks at Tobio, or maybe near him, Tobio can tell his mind is far away, in that horrible future where…

“You’ll have to stop playing?” Tobio asks quietly, horrified. Oikawa can’t stop playing volleyball. Tobio has built his life around a few core truths. Oikawa Tooru has volleyball the way Kageyama Tobio has volleyball. That is the truth. Oikawa _has_ to have volleyball. 

“None of us can play forever,” Oikawa points out with a small, wry smile. “But yes. I’ll have to stop, sooner than I’d like to.” 

Tobio swallows, and tries not to fumble with his words. “But, you...when?” 

Oikawa sighs and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table to fold his hands under his chin again, looking out the window. The sun glinting through the window casts a gentle glow over his face. 

“I’m going to play in the Olympics,” Oikawa declares, softly and carefully, like it’s a secret. “Just...I just need to make it once. I can be happy with that.” 

Tobio can’t look away now that he’s started, enraptured by the way the light cards through Oikawa’s hair and ghosts over his cheeks. The Olympics are next year, but Oikawa will still be in University then. Tobio would like to believe he could make it onto the national team anyway, because he’s _Oikawa_ , but realistically…

“Five years?” Tobio murmurs, and Oikawa hums. 

“Five years,” he echoes, turning his gaze back to Tobio. “My knee, I had...an incident, a few weeks after that party when I last saw you. After Nationals?” Tobio nods to show he understands. “A friend of my sister’s put me in contact with a sports doctor here, at Kansei.” 

Tobio blinks. “So your transfer…” 

“Haiji-san is the first doctor I’ve had who takes me seriously,” Oikawa says, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “The others either tell me to quit now, or tell me I’ll be fine because it’s what I want to hear. Haiji-san asked what I wanted to do. If I could do one thing before I had to stop, what was it. He says I can make it to the Olympics. But I have to...I can’t play the same.” 

Tobio frowns, trying desperately to understand so Oikawa doesn’t have to explain, because Tobio hates knowing he’s always lost and confused when they talk. “I...don’t understand,” he reluctantly admits. He expects Oikawa to laugh, to hear ‘of course you don’t, Tobio-chan’, but it doesn’t come. 

“I have to be careful,” Oikawa says, and then he laughs. “You can imagine how Iwa-chan reacted when he heard that. The ‘I told you so’s’ were endless, Tobio.” 

“Careful?” Tobio repeats, trying to ignore the fluttering of his heart when Oikawa says his name without that irritating ‘chan’ at the end. 

“Mm,” Oikawa nods. “Haiji-san read up on volleyball. He thinks, he says I can delay needing surgery if I can put less strain on my knee. And the best way to do that is limiting my time on the court.” 

Tobio leans back in shock, staring open mouthed at Oikawa. “Limit-, but, what’s the point then?” 

Oikawa tosses his head back and laughs, a wide smile curling over his face. Tobio just keeps staring at him, because it doesn’t seem like Oikawa is laughing at him, and Tobio has _never_ made Oikawa laugh like that. “Eh, sorry, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa waves a hand at him. “I just, I said the same exact thing when Haiji-san told me, exactly like that.” 

Tobio flushes, trying to understand why that makes him feel so...warm. 

“He said I’d have to figure that out on my own,” Oikawa continues. “But he understands enough about volleyball to know that it means I’ll have to share. So he asked if there was anyone I could share it with. Setter.” Oikawa stops then, meeting Tobio’s eyes. “That’s what I meant. When I said Tsukki wasn’t completely wrong.” 

It takes a moment for Oikawa’s words to sink in, for Tobio to understand what he’s saying. He feels his eyes widen, and in his efforts to lean away, his chair scrapes slightly along the floor. “You... _me_?” Tobio breathes. 

“Yes, Tobio,” Oikawa replies, gently, as if Tobio is a frightened child about to run off. Maybe he is. “You.” 

Because this...it doesn’t make _sense_. Out of anyone Oikawa could choose, Tobio should be the last option. No, he shouldn’t be an option at all. Oikawa hates him, wants to crush him, not...not _this_. Tobio shakes his head once, then twice, then again, and again. 

“No,” he says, and then repeats it louder. “No. You’re not, Oikawa-san, you don’t...this isn’t—” 

“Tobio,” Oikawa says, in that tone that always makes him still, pulls him in, leaves him hanging onto every word. “You know, better than anyone, that I take volleyball seriously. Yes?” Tobio swallows hard and nods. “I’m serious now, too. You are the only one I can share this with.” 

Tobio still doesn’t _understand_ , and it hurts, not understanding, feeling like he’s falling behind and missing something like always. To his horror, his eyes begin to sting, and he whips his head to the side to hide. 

“I was considering transferring so I could be closer to Haiji-san,” Oikawa explains gently. “And then I found out you were coming to Kansei.” Tobio closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath, exhaling slowly to calm himself down. 

This...should be a good thing. If what Oikawa says is true, if he wants to share, it’s, that’s new for them. It’s not new for Tobio, not after Suga. But it’s never something he expected to have with Oikawa. 

Oikawa gives him time to take a few more deep breaths, until Tobio is ready to look at him again. “Okay,” Tobio finally says, quietly, cautiously. 

“Thank you, Tobio,” Oikawa smiles, his relief evident on his face. Tobio can see it now, too, the way most of Oikawa’s tension has faded. He feels the same, he thinks, finally knowing what Oikawa wants. It doesn’t last. 

Tobio freezes, every muscle locking into place, his lungs refusing to let him draw in air, because Oikawa…

Oikawa is removing the black band around his wrist, and he’s setting it on the table, and Tobio can see his name on Oikawa’s skin. 

“Oikawa-san…” Tobio’s voice is high, and desperate, and he hates it. 

“This is the other reason I’m here,” Oikawa murmurs, tracing his finger over Tobio’s name. His eyes flick up to meet Tobio’s. “I...I want to _try_ , Tobio. I don’t know if this can work, but I want to try.” Oikawa moves slowly, laying his hand down across the table in front of Tobio, his palm facing up with his wrist, his soulmarked wrist, exposed. He meets Tobio’s eyes again, calm and vulnerable and _terrifying_. 

“Can we try?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a good start on the third chapter as of now, but like before, I make no promises about any kind of update schedule. I hope y’all don’t mind that too much. 
> 
> For those who know Kaze Ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru/Run With the Wind, there’s our boy Haiji, living his best life as a coach for the track team at Kansei and a doctor who works with injured athletes. He is absolutely married to Kakeru and they’re stupidly domestic. If you haven’t watched it already, I HIGHLY recommend it.
> 
> I am going for moderate levels of accuracy here for the University related things. I based their academic programs on departments at Waseda, but I’m taking liberties with them being in an athletics dorm, in a suite that has a mini-kitchen. Probably not realistic but hey, it serves the story. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey! 
> 
> Y’all are absolutely spoiling me with your comments, everyone has been so kind! I was trying to keep up and respond to all of them, but work is picking up again because the semester is about to start, so my brain is quite scrambled most days. I’ll try my best to reply when I can, but please know that even if I don’t, I really appreciate all of them, and I love hearing what you all think! 

Tobio can’t tell if it’s just his hands that are trembling under the table, or if it’s all of him. He can’t take his eyes off of Oikawa’s outstretched hand, his upturned wrist, his _own_ name. Tobio doesn’t...he _can’t_ understand. He thought they, Oikawa and him, he thought they had an agreement. A silent pact of sorts, that they weren’t going to acknowledge this, that they’d wear their bands and go on with their lives. 

But Oikawa says, ‘I want to try’, ‘Can we try’, Oikawa wants to...but he _can’t_ , that’s not how this is supposed to work. Tobio’s lungs ache as he fails to take in air, his eyes locked on Oikawa’s wrist, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He waits for Oikawa to yank his hand back, and laugh, and taunt Tobio for believing, even for a second, that he could have this. That he could ever deserve this. 

“Tobio-chan?” 

Tobio flinches, and breathes in shakily, flinching again when Oikawa’s hand twitches. 

“Tobio, please look at me,” Oikawa says, and the urgent tone of his voice is enough to break through Tobio’s haze of confusion and panic. His body is slow to respond as he lifts his head and meets Oikawa’s eyes. It does little to stem the current of fear overtaking him, because Oikawa looks so concerned, and Tobio can’t comprehend how Oikawa could look at him like that. It occurs to him that this is becoming somewhat of a regular occurance, Oikawa looking at him, and smiling at him, and talking to him in ways that he shouldn’t. 

Oikawa frowns, and that, at least, is familiar. “Tobio, you’re shaking.” Oikawa leans forward, all while he starts to withdraw his hand, but he freezes when Tobio’s breath hitches, a choked sound locking in the back of his throat. Oikawa considers him for a moment, and carefully returns his hand to where it was. Tobio breathes a little easier, and he has to look down then, to hide his face and his shame. 

“You seem...I didn’t expect you to be scared,” Oikawa says uneasily. “I thought you might be angry with me. Actually, I thought you’d laugh in my face and leave, if I’m being honest.” Tobio shakes his head. He could never, not either of those things. Not with Oikawa. 

“Can you tell me what you’re scared of?” Oikawa asks, careful and quiet. 

Tobio swallows a few times, trying to shape the words in his mind before he speaks them. “I’m...waiting,” Tobio tries. 

Oikawa’s brow pinches together. “Waiting? For what?” 

“For it to be a joke, for you to...I don’t know,” Tobio gestures at Oikawa’s hand, the words slipping away from him. 

But Oikawa sucks in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, and his voice is heavy when he replies. “Oh, Tobio. I suppose I deserve that.” 

“Huh?” Tobio frowns, trying to understand the leap from his own words to Oikawa’s, how Oikawa even understood what he was trying to say in the first place. 

Oikawa opens his eyes, giving Tobio a small, bitter smile. “I might have, back then,” Oikawa says. “If it was us before, I might have...hurt you like that. Tricked you, just to see if I could. Just to prove that I could.” Oikawa lifts the hand not lying on the table to push his hair back out of his face. “I’ve worked hard to be better than that now.” Oikawa smiles for real this time, tiny and fragile. “Like you, and middle school. Like that.” 

Oikawa shifts and leans forward, extending his hand closer to Tobio, past the middle of the table until his palm rests right in front of him. He meets Tobio’s eyes, and the genuine kindness in his eyes makes it hard to breathe again. “I won’t. I promise, Tobio. This isn’t a trick. I do want to try. I want to...know you. Again, but for real this time. I want you to know me too.” Oikawa smiles wistfully. “I think it would be nice to at least be friends. That’s a good start, don’t you think?” 

It hits Tobio then, that he never stood a chance. The moment Oikawa offered this, offered himself, Tobio was doomed, his fate signed and sealed. So he nods, and watches as Oikawa’s face brightens, as he smiles at Tobio like he’s something worth smiling at. Tobio didn’t expect damnation to be so beautiful. 

Nodding is a hell of a lot easier than the next step, but Tobio manages the bare minimum of lifting his hand out from under the table. _This is probably a bad idea,_ Tobio thinks. _But..._ “I think...I want all of that too,” Tobio says, looking at his hand. When he looks at Oikawa, the other man is looking at Tobio’s wrist.

“Can I see it?” Oikawa asks, keeping his voice low. 

In the two years that Tobio has had his soulmark, he’s never shown it to another person. He’s barely looked at it himself, only removing the band when he absolutely has to. But he supposes it’s only fair, and admittedly, seeing his name on Oikawa’s wrist feels...reassuring somehow. Proof that it’s real, that he’s not in this alone. 

So Tobio nods, and with shaky fingers, removes the black band from around his wrist. His mark isn’t facing Oikawa yet, but Tobio hears him inhale and release his breath in a hiss. 

“Oh, Tobio,” Oikawa says sadly. And those words, spoken gently and softly, ‘Oh Tobio’, like an apology and a prayer wrapped in one, Tobio finds it unsettling how he’s getting used to hearing those words from Oikawa. “You never take it off, do you?” 

Tobio frowns, and opens his mouth to ask how Oikawa knows, or why it matters, but Oikawa beats him to it. 

“Your skin,” Oikawa gestures. “I’d call that a tan line, except it’s not summer.” 

Tobio looks at his wrist, and then he _really_ looks, and sees the difference in his skin where the band lies. He finds himself floundering for an excuse, and then wonders why he’s bothering. “You take yours off?” Tobio asks instead. 

Oikawa hums. “Yes, but. I didn’t always. My wrist looked like that for the first year and half.” 

Tobio looks at Oikawa’s wrist, imagining the same difference in tone, and he thinks he understands why Oikawa sounded sad when he noticed Tobio’s. He keeps looking at Oikawa’s hand, instead of his own, even as he flips his palm upwards and lays his hand on the table next to Oikawa’s. Oikawa breathes in sharply and holds it, for a few moments, and the release is shaky. 

“I’ve thought about this for two years,” Oikawa murmurs. “What my name looked like on your skin. I thought I knew, what it would feel like to see it. But…” Oikawa laughs, quiet and wry. “What an idiot I was. If I’d seen this back then, maybe things would have been different.” 

Tobio tries to imagine that, seeing his name on Oikawa’s skin back then, instead of now. “Different isn’t always better,” Tobio points out. Oikawa sighs and nods.

“Very true,” Oikawa agrees, and then he tilts his head, and twitches his pointer finger closer to Tobio’s hand, towards his pinky. He doesn’t stop looking at Tobio, meeting his eyes with a questioning look. Tobio’s hand trembles, but he nods. Touching is inevitable, with how often they’re around each other now, with them playing on the same team. It’s best to get this over with, now that they’ve decided to do it. 

Oikawa’s finger nudges closer, until their skin brushes together, and Oikawa links his finger with Tobio’s pinky. Tobio breathes in harshly, squeezing his eyes shut against the overwhelm of sudden stimulation. He’d asked Shouyou once, what the bond felt like. Impossible to explain had been the answer. An entire new sense, solid and real, but invisible. 

Tobio can feel something in him _connected_ to Oikawa, but it’s messy and tangled, and he can’t tell what shape it’s supposed to be. He’s tempted to call it loud, but that’s not right. It’s not a sound, more of an unsteady thrum under his skin and in his chest. A sound-not-sound. 

“Oikawa-san—”

“Tobio—” 

Tobio opens his eyes and finds that Oikawa has just done the same. “It’s loud,” Tobio grits out. 

“Iwa-chan said it might feel like this,” Oikawa pouts. “Messy.” 

“Did he tell you how to fix it?” Tobio asks, pressing the heel of his palm to his temple. 

“Yes and no,” Oikawa grumbles. “He told me, but I don’t get it. He said to give it a name.” 

“Eh?” Tobio frowns. “Give what a name? The bond?” 

“Exactly!” Oikawa gestures. “That’s what I asked, and he wouldn’t tell me.” 

Tobio narrows his eyes. “Are you sure he wasn’t just messing with you?” 

“I’m starting to think he might have been,” Oikawa groans, dropping his head over the back of his chair. The movement jostles their hands slightly, their fingers still linked, and Tobio feels it ripple through the bond. 

“Do that again,” Tobio says, leaning in curiously to look at their hands. 

“Huh?” Oikawa lifts his head and peers at Tobio. “Do what?” 

“Move your hand,” Tobio instructs. Oikawa gives him a dubious look, but does as he says anyways, lifting his hand slightly and then setting it back down. Tobio unlinks their fingers. “And again.” 

Oikawa lifts his hand again, drawing it away from Tobio and towards himself. Tobio feels that ripple again, through the bond, like an echo bouncing from one tangled piece to the next. He can practically hear it, almost like—

“Chimes,” Oikawa murmurs. “It sounds, but it doesn’t, I can’t hear anything, but it feels like it sounds like chimes.” 

“Furin,” Tobio agrees. “Like furin.” 

Tobio can feel the connection shift and untangle from a perfect midpoint between them, threads rippling outwards towards Oikawa and towards himself, like lines of furin spinning and chiming in the wind. No longer tangled or ruffled violently, the thrumming settles into a smooth and gentle rhythm, albeit an unpredictable one. 

“I guess Iwaizumi-san was right?” Tobio says curiously. He can feel Oikawa’s amusement before the man laughs, a rustling through the bond. 

“Not that we’ll be telling him that,” Oikawa grins. “I’ll never hear the end of it if we do.” Tobio doesn’t need to say out loud how funny he thinks that would be. Oikawa can obviously feel it, because he gasps and gives Tobio an indignant look. 

Tobio’s mouth starts to stretch into a grin, so he ducks his head and places his hand in front of his mouth out of habit. He can feel a slower ripple through the bond, tinged with curiosity coming from Oikawa. Whatever Oikawa is thinking, though, he keeps to himself. 

They finish their tea within a few sips of each other, and Oikawa smiles when Tobio takes his cup to the bin for him. When he returns, Oikawa has a laptop and a few notebooks out on the table. 

“I assume you have homework?” Oikawa raises a brow at him, and Tobio nods, sinking back into his seat.

He takes out his own laptop and books, and looks through the excel sheet he’s using to keep track of his work. Most of his work this first week is just reading, a _lot_ of reading. When he glances up for a moment, he can’t help but stare at Oikawa.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Tobio blurts out. 

“Hm?” Oikawa looks up from his book. “Oh. Usually just for reading. Iwa-chan says they make me look dorky.” Tobio is shaking his head before Oikawa even finishes his sentence, and Oikawa’s side of the bond shimmers in response. 

“You look nice,” Tobio’s mouth works faster than his brain, like usual, but it’s worth it to see the subtle tint of pink on Oikawa’s cheeks, and that small smile. Tobio knows his face is probably a little red. 

“Thank you, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa says, and then his eyes glint. “Do you always get this flustered when you compliment someone?” 

“No!” Tobio scowls. “Or, well, kind of, but—” 

Oikawa tosses his head back and laughs. “Oh you are too _easy,_ Tobio-chan!” 

Tobio huffs and returns his attention to his screen, trying not to pout. He must not be very successful, if Oikawa’s quiet giggling is any indication. Tobio likes this, studying with Oikawa. It’s not quite as easy as doing school work with his friends, but he thinks it could be, someday. 

The bond is mildly distracting while he works, though. He can tell when Oikawa reads something that piques his interest, because thin threads of the bond thrum in response. He can also tell when Oikawa is looking at him, even if he’s not looking back. Tobio’s side of the bond echoes whatever pattern Oikawa’s makes when he does, until Tobio finally looks up and Oikawa ducks his head to escape being caught. 

It’s during one of these exchanges that Tobio notices what books Oikawa has on the table, how far removed from the sports science program they seem. “Oikawa-san?” 

Oikawa lifts his head and sighs, pouting at Tobio. “You don’t have to keep calling me that, you know,” Oikawa points out. 

“Huh?” 

“Oikawa-san,” Oikawa shapes his name awkwardly. “It’s so clunky, Tobio-chan!” 

Tobio raises a brow and crosses his arms, giving Oikawa a look even as he feels his side of the bond ripple towards Oikawa’s. 

Oikawa blinks and gapes at him for a moment, before his surprise melts away and he laughs. “Only you could manage being so cheeky without saying a word,” Oikawa shakes his head. “I guess I _kind_ of see your point. It’s different though!” 

“Eh?” Tobio’s brow scrunches. “How?” 

“Tobio-chan is a nickname, obviously!” Oikawa huffs. Tobio is caught off guard by the seemingly genuine frustration he can feel through the bond from Oikawa. “Oikawa-san is...it just makes me sound old or something.” 

“You are old,” Tobio says flatly, smirking when Oikawa squawks indignantly at him. 

“Tsukki is a bad influence on you,” Oikawa grumbles, narrowing his eyes at Tobio. “But seriously Tobio-chan, if we’re going to try being friends, you should drop the -san already.” 

For all of a brief moment, a breath even, Tobio considers saying ‘Only if you drop the -chan’. He doesn’t know _why_ it affects him the way it does. Why the sound of it sparks an unsettling twist in his stomach, makes his fingers twitch. But the moment passes quickly, with the realization that if Tobio wants this to work, them being friends, he has to be careful. Oikawa says he’s worked hard to change, but Tobio knows better than anyone that the past lingers. There are buttons that take the barest amount of pressure to be pushed, that can crack and chip away at progress. It’s best if he avoids pushing them. 

“Okay,” Tobio agrees, and decides to test it out, shaping the man’s name slowly. “Oikawa.” Tobio’s mouth twists a bit, discontent with ending the word a syllable too soon, leaving things unfinished. 

Oikawa giggles and feigns offense. “Is saying my name really so upsetting, Tobio-chan?” 

“Just odd,” Tobio admits. 

“Hm,” Oikawa folds his hands under his chin and pins Tobio with that look, the one Tobio is used to seeing across from him on the court. It’s all the more effective with the force of the bond behind it, tiny echoes nudging at Tobio curiously. “Maybe you should try calling me Tooru.” 

Tobio _knew_ that look couldn’t bode well for him, but there’s no joy to be gained from being right when his cheeks flare red and he has to hide and duck his face down to look at his laptop. Oikawa’s laughter, bolstered by a strong shimmering through the bond, does not help matters much. 

“Sorry, sorry, Tobio-chan,” Oikawa lifts his hands in surrender. “You’re just so easy to tease.” 

“So I’ve been told,” Tobio grumbles, and he _has_. Suga, Daichi, Tanaka, Ennoshita, Shouyou, Kei, Tadashi, even _Yachi_ , all of them have said that before. It used to bother him, because it felt like before. Like elementary and middle school, when Tobio couldn’t figure out the rules and everyone thought he was weird or funny because of it. But Karasuno was different. They didn’t care that he couldn’t figure out the rules; It’s not like they followed all of them either. It had taken some time, some patient explanations from Suga, but Tobio gets it now. The teasing from them is _affectionate_. It’s different. It seems like it might be that way with Oikawa too. Tobio hopes it is, anyway. 

“Weren’t you trying to ask me something?” Oikawa asks abruptly, a few minutes after they’ve returned to studying. 

Tobio blinks and huffs. “You mean before you threw a fit because I made you feel old?” He can feel Oikawa’s indignation and amusement through the bond, and Tobio can understand why Oikawa enjoys teasing him, if he can feel that from Tobio too. 

“I did _not_ throw a fit,” Oikawa sniffs delicately. “Trust me, Tobio-chan, you’d know if I were throwing a fit. That was moderate levels of whining at best.” 

Tobio snorts quietly and shakes his head, flushing when he feels a thrum of pleasant surprise from the man across from him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Well, Tobio-chan?” Oikawa reaches over to push his laptop partially closed, enough that Tobio can’t see his screen anymore. Like a damned cat draping across a keyboard to prevent their person from ignoring them. “What were you going to ask me?” 

“Huh? Oh.” Tobio points at Oikawa’s books. “Those don’t look like they’re for a sports science program.” 

Oikawa looks down at his books, as if he’s somehow forgotten what they are, and smiles. “I considered the sports science program,” he says. 

Tobio blinks and leans forward. “Considered...so you didn’t pick it? _Really_?” 

Oikawa chuckles softly. “Contrary to popular belief and what Iwa-chan would have everyone think, I do enjoy other things,” he says wryly. “I’m in the Physics department.” 

“Physics,” Tobio repeats dumbly. 

“Physics,” Oikawa confirms. “I’m studying astrophysics.”

Tobio can’t help but stare at Oikawa, his mouth dropping open. “Isn’t that...really hard?” 

Oikawa huffs when he feels some of Tobio’s shock and disbelief rippling across the bond. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, eyes narrowing. “Of course it’s hard, but I’m perfectly capable. Unlike _some_ people, there’s room in my head for more than volleyball. I’m not an idiot, Tobio-chan.” That last bit, Oikawa nearly sneers, and Tobio suddenly feels like they’ve twisted a clock into a convoluted knot, landing back in his first year of high school. 

Tobio can feel it, probably at the same time that Oikawa himself realizes it—an abrupt stop in the frantic rippling from Oikawa’s side of the bond, a stomach dropping pitch into regret. It doesn’t really help much, not when Tobio’s whole body heats with humiliation. Because...he _knows_ , okay? He’s heard this plenty of times from Kei. He knows. 

Before he can give in to instinct, which is shouting at him to shove everything in his bag and run, Oikawa’s hands fly across the table and latch onto him, enclosing around his wrists. Tobio tenses in his grip, pulling just enough to see if Oikawa lets go. He doesn’t. 

“Wait,” Oikawa says, his voice low and flat. His head is bowed, hair hanging down enough to hide his face from Tobio. “Just...wait. Please.” 

Tobio doesn’t want to wait. He wants to twist his wrists free, slam his laptop shut harder than he should, and leave before Oikawa can spit more poison at him. He knew this was a bad idea. But Oikawa’s thumb rests right on his soulmark, and Tobio’s eyes catch on his own name on Oikawa’s wrist. So he waits. 

For a moment, Oikawa just holds onto him and breathes, until he finally raises his head and meets Tobio’s eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that,” Oikawa’s voice is still flat and quiet. “I...twisted what you said into an insult. I didn’t mean to, but that’s not an excuse. I’m sorry.” 

Tobio frowns, but judging by the way Oikawa’s mouth pinches, it must look more like he’s scowling. He doesn’t understand at first, but then...then he does. He’d stared at Oikawa, looked at him like he was crazy when he told him what he was studying, and Tobio knows, if someone had looked at _him_ like that and said what he’d said, he’d hear an insult too. 

“You didn’t,” Tobio mumbles, and Oikawa’s face flickers between confusion and hurt. Tobio curses his inability to use complete sentences and shakes his wrists in Oikawa’s grip, just enough to get him to focus. “It’s not what I meant. But you didn’t twist anything. That...that makes it sound like you did it on purpose?” Tobio’s voice pitches into a question, rather than the declaration he’d wanted, and his face glares redder than it was already. Why is he so _terrible_ at this? 

“Tobio-chan—” 

“It was an accident!” Tobio manages to blurt out, much louder than he means to, which leaves him bowing his head to hide from the gazes that swivel their way. “I didn’t mean to, to say it like that, and you didn’t mean for it to get…” Tobio starts to lose traction, but he pushes through as best he can. “Muddled. It got muddled.” 

He really is terrible at this, Tobio realizes. He can’t bring himself to lift his head, too scared of what he might see on Oikawa’s face. Whatever he’s feeling through the bond is nearly impossible to read too, which isn’t exactly helping matters. 

“Muddled,” Oikawa repeats, a slow murmur. Tobio feels Oikawa’s thumb rub along his soulmark. “Everyone’s always...surprised. When I tell them. There’s something about me that makes them think. I don’t know. I’m too...something.” 

Tobio shakes his head insistently. “You’re not,” he protests, scowling when Oikawa just huffs dismissively. “You’re _not_ ,” Tobio repeats. “I was surprised, because science, that kind of science, it’s hard, and I don’t understand how _anyone_ can do it. And then I wondered how you have time to do it, and be good at it, and good at volleyball. And I know you are. You wouldn’t, you don’t put that much work into something and not be good at it. That’s not like you. Even if you weren’t good at it to start, you’d make yourself good.” 

Oikawa’s grip tightens around Tobio’s wrists, and for the briefest moment, Tobio’s throat closes in on itself after a spike of fear. But Oikawa’s grip is careful. His nails don’t dig in, and it doesn’t hurt. Tobio can feel the tangles of their bond gradually unknotting again, so he waits, and eventually Oikawa’s hands loosen around his wrists until he’s released. 

“And what about you, Tobio-chan?” Oikawa finally says. 

“Huh?” Tobio tries to grasp at whatever threads he can think of, to figure out what Oikawa is asking him. “Me?” 

“You’ll put the work in too,” Oikawa gestures to Tobio’s laptop and his books. “I know you will.” 

Tobio snorts and closes his laptop, gently, thankfully, and packs his things into his backpack. “Well, yeah,” Tobio nods. “But you didn’t say anything that wasn’t true, Oikawa-sa...Oikawa. I’m not smart.” Tobio’s found the words easier to say, as the years have gone by. He still hates them, but he doesn’t stumble over them like he used to. “But it’s a sports program, so I’ll manage.” 

“Hold on, Tobio-chan, that’s not fair,” Oikawa frowns at him, standing when Tobio does. 

“It’s the truth,” Tobio refutes. “And it’s okay. I don’t really mind.” 

“You wanted to run,” Oikawa crosses his arms, tension lining his shoulders and face. “I called you an idiot, and you wanted to run. You’re running now. That doesn’t seem okay.” 

“I’m not,” Tobio glares without any heat. “I’m just. We’ve been here for over two hours, Oikawa. I’m ready to leave.” 

Oikawa sighs at him and softens, uncrossing his arms to pack his own bag, conceding defeat. “Alright, Tobio-chan,” he murmurs. “At least walk to the station with me, hm?” 

Tobio slings his bag over his shoulder and nods, more relaxed now that the bond has finally untangled and settled between them again. He follows Oikawa out of the cafe, and walks side by side with him towards the station. Oikawa tips his head back, catching the sun with his face, and sighs heavily. 

“I told you that I’ve worked hard to be better than I was back then,” Oikawa says, startling Tobio when the silence between them is broken. “I guess I’ve still got more work to do.” 

“You always will,” Tobio says bluntly, though not unkindly. 

“Thanks,” Oikawa retorts, a sharp edge to his voice. 

Tobio sighs. “I didn’t mean it like _that_ ,” he rolls his eyes. “I just meant it’s not something that ends.” Oikawa is quiet for a while, though Tobio can feel him staring, thrums of curiosity nudging at Tobio through the bond. Tobio realizes Oikawa isn’t going to ask, no matter how much he wants to. So he continues anyway. “It just gets a bit easier the longer you do it.” 

Oikawa hums and faces forward again, and Tobio can feel a tense thread of the bond loosen, as Oikawa’s mouth curves into a tiny smile. “That doesn’t sound so bad,” he murmurs. 

Tobio allows himself his own small smile, with his head ducked down enough for it to be safely hidden. “It’s not,” Tobio confirms. “I think you’ll be okay.” _I think maybe we’ll be okay too_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was _fun_. Some of my favorite scenes to write are ones that have no plan whatsoever, where I just see where the dialogue goes, because it usually takes me in directions I didn’t expect and teaches me things about the characters that I hadn’t thought about. 
> 
> If anyone is interested, I have a playlist that I listen to when I write for this fic. I made it with this fic in mind, but I think it fits Oikage in general too!
> 
> [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6sFw7mGi1j9pAFw8jAM4iL?si=L6s0nkPwTgWaH9kY4bqIeQ)
> 
> [YouTube](https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLcyjFWmmibOzXlMsZf2IIP48OFE2m18x6)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> main tumblr: [liarielle](https://liarielle.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Haikyuu tumblr: [bokubroya](https://bokubroya.tumblr.com/)


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